A Walk to Remember
by Sukima
Summary: After graduating from Hogwarts Hermione reflects upon her future will bring, unaware that it is already decided for her...
1. A Walk to Remember

Chapter I A Walk to Remember  
  
Walking down a lonely strip of road at night was an odd comfort to her. As a cold breeze rushed by her face she felt more in touch with the nature around her. The large pine trees that look so inviting in the day, now only reflect desolate shelters for the little wildlife that still exist in this muggle world. She turned her attention to the moon that rested so placidly in space. The light reflected from the sun lit up the world around her enough to take in the atmosphere and focus her thoughts.  
  
Whenever her life at home got too stressful for her she always found a way to sneak out late at night to be with her thoughts. As much as she respected her parents, they drove her crazy. Just because she had powers beyond a muggle's comprehension didn't mean that the role of a teenager was automatically drawn out from her. She was seventeen, and it is the only natural that parents and children disagree at that age; it's easier for the parents to let their children go when they become such a hassle.  
  
Yet right now, after another fued with her mother and father, she reflected upon what she might do with her life. Having no more required schooling left she weighed her various options of the career she wished to persue in the wizarding world. She definitely didn't want to stay home any longer than she had to, but she also wanted to be with people she was familiar with. Harry had decided to apply for the spot as Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher at Hogwarts while Ron was working with his brothers at their new joke shop, Weasley Whizzes. Ron, she laughed at the thought, was their test dummy.  
  
Ron, she sighed happily as her thoughts rested upon him, was the best friend a girl could ask for. Ever since their fifth year they had grown so close. She missed the long talks she had with him in the common room alone at night and the subtle flirting that Harry never noticed. The two of them had ventured so far as to actually kiss before, she smiled at the memory. Her smile grew broader as she recalled a more extensive kissing lesson with him before graduation. She blushed at the thought of it.  
  
But that was over now, she reminded herself. Ron had decided that he just wanted to be friends, and nothing more. Hermione had to hide the disappointment from herself as she continued walking down the darkening road. The temperature seemed to drop and the air grew stiff. In the distance she could hear grass moving but could see nothing. There were two people, she knew because one was breathing rather loudly and the other was incessantly hissing, "Shut UP!"  
  
Hermione squeaked at the familiarity and quickly withdrew her wand. "Lumos!" she whispered as the world around her lit up quickly. Still, there was only a gray dirt road beneath her feet, surrounded by short green grass, followed closely by the creaking pines.  
  
"NOW!" the impatient voice called out as the other shouted a curse. Hermione found herself immobile and in the possession of the dark Lord Voldemort who had removed his cloaking charm and scooped her up with his wand. Beneath his dark mop of hair she saw Tom Riddle, reborn and smiling at her evilly. 


	2. The Past Revealed

Chapter II The Past Revealed  
  
He sat within the stone walls of his fortress pondering the days to come and the days passed. There was so much to think of, he soon concluded, and so much to remember. . . .  
  
Hogwarts, 17 years previous, was the home he had grown to love and loathe. It was the only place for him to be, but only from lack of options. His mother had been killed by his father, who had *mysteriously* vanished as well. He laughed at the thought. All muggles, he concluded, should bear the same fate his father had- it was only right.  
  
Mudbloods were a different story, for he, too, was born from the semen of a muggle and in the womb of a witch. They could not help their natural birth, but that didn't mean that muggles were excluded from his wrath. He would rule the world someday! He felt his blood boil from the excitement of excavating the world of muggles and muggle-borns.  
  
Then he thought upon a lost love. He cared for her more than his own mother at times. The smile she threw at him everyday when others only scowled was a constant reminder of her inner beauty and strength. Her long red hair flowed beautifully in the wind and her green eyes constantly flashed at him from across the room.  
  
As he recalled the constant flirting his wrath bore and he threw a nearby tray across the room, shattering a window. His thoughts returned to his past. . . .  
  
She was a Gryffindor, he was a Slytheran. Naturally it was only right for the two of them to loathe one another, but he felt such a strong connection with her that he found it difficult to sleep at night. However, he soon noticed that another was stricken with the same plague as he was.  
  
A Gryffindor, and not just any Gryffindor, the Quidditch Seeker. The Gryffindor wasn't even as attractive as himself, but was apparently the one this woman chose. He assumed they had premarital sex because after they graduated they were married, found a house, and she bore a child within a few short months. This child . . . Harry Potter.  
  
-The very name disturbed him. All of these years he had spent trying to destroy this devious little boy, but to no avail. Soon, he thought to himself, I will have revenge. . . Soon, Harry Potter will be no more!-  
  
After graduation Tom decided to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts possition at Hogwarts. Shortly after that he would move on to achieve his life long goal of ridding the world of filthy muggles everywhere!  
  
First and foremost, however, he needed to find trustworthy followers who would accompany him in his revolution. He rounded up some friends from his school days who were more than willing to help him in his cause.  
  
Later, he found himself in the presence of Professor Trelawny. He had profound respect for the witch and needed her to tell him of what was to become of his escapades.  
  
The witch, he vaguely recalled, said, "In the goal you have set for yourself you will find that a lost love will come to stop you, and succeed she will. Unless drastic measures are taken, your plans will end before they've even begun."  
  
Shocked by even this knowledge, he went so far as to ask her what his plans were.  
  
"You wish to destroy muggles entirely, as a revenge for the death of your mother," her eyes were white as her hands revolved around her crystal ball hanging in mid-air. "You wish to destroy muggles entirely, so that not another mudblood will have to fare the same fate as you. . . . you wish to marry Lily Potter, but she does not want you. . . . you wish to kill the Potters . . . . you wish to destroy mudbloods entirely . . . . you wish for me to cease . . . . youb wish to put a memory charm on me-"  
  
At that moment she had correctly predicted his entire thoughts. Unfortunately, for the old bat, her memory and ability to tap into the divine powers were never the same.  
  
Dumbledore, however, was far too wise to not be accounted for. He came out of the shadows after Tom had left Trelawny and took her to the Hospital Wing to recover. He knew Tom's plans and would not allow them to succeed. Before he dealt with Tom, he wanted to make entirely sure that Lily, James, and Harry would be safe. He put a cloaking charm on them and their home, leaving Sirius- Harry's godfather- as their safekeeper. This, he thought, would slow down Tom's plans for a bit longer so that he could work to stop him, to help him understand.  
  
But Tom didn't want to understand anything the old man wanted to say. It was at that moment that he was gathering his followers. They had all been branded with the Dark Mark he had taken the liberty of creating, and were at his becking call.  
  
"My new name," he announced to his followers and friends, "is to be Tom Riddle no longer! I will not bear the same horrid name as my muggle father. From now on you will all address me as Lord Voldemort or taste my wrath!"  
  
There was a simultaneous bow of, "Yes, my Lord Voldemort."  
  
They parted for the night. Dumbledore found him in his dormitory at Hogwarts. This would be a long conversation, he thought to himself as the headmaster allowed himself in and revealed an authoritative side that chilled even this dark lord to his bones.  
  
"I know what you're doing and I will not let you succeed!" Dumbledore said bluntly, which was completely out of character. "Life and death are not for you to decide. They are beyond our control-"  
  
"Then how is it so easy to deal them out?" he hissed.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes pierced him ominously, "Killing someone is not beyond any person's power. It takes the stronger person to live with another's faults than to so easily dismiss them by ridding the world of that person entirely.  
  
"What your father did was inexcusable. You've already punished him for that, but do you honestly believe that everyone else deserves to die as the result of one man . . . by the hand of one man? Is that fair?"  
  
Fair? Fair! Was it fair that a poor woman was left alone to bear a child just because she was a witch? His father had killed her for what she was and Voldemort killed him for what he'd done. Was it fair? No. But nothing in life ever is, he thought to himself. All of human existance was a waste of space.  
  
The world was created, and along with it came lush trees and grasses, flowers and ferns. Animals made homes out of their environment and lived fairly peacefully with one another. Then came humans. The horrid, scum- sucking varmits deserved nothing but death. We are parasites, he thought, living off of the land and destroying anywhere we inhabit. We kill one another ruthlessly and without reason. Is that fair? NO! HELL no! That is why he felt it was his job to rid the world of these parasites, and he would not let anyone stand in his way. Not even Dumbledore. . .  
  
"I quit. I'm leaving now," was all he said to him. He did have respect for the old man, but only because Dumbledore had stopped Voldemort's father from killing him off as an infant.  
  
He summoned his belongings into his trunk quickly and they followed him out the door. Before he was out of the glare of the headmaster the old man said silently, "Don't do anything that will make me regret what I've done for you. . . ."  
  
Voldemort left the school. He made his home in the Forbidden Forest and quickly thought of how to go about his plans for world domination. First and foremost, he knew he had to rid the world of the Potters. The thought of destroying Lily disturbed him, but he knew it had to be done.  
  
His thoughts were quickly disturbed as one of his followers, Wormtail, found him in the forest.  
  
"My Lord," he bowed.  
  
"Yes," Voldemort responded in a drawling, irritated voice.  
  
"I know of the whereabouts of the Potters."  
  
Finally, he smiled to himself. He could rid the world of the Potters and of muggles everywhere from that point forward.  
  
The wise words of Dumbledore still haunted him, but he threw them aside as his faithful follower betrayed his friends, led him to the Potters home, and revealed the home to him. Some safekeeper, Voldemort smirked as he entered the home. . . .  
  
The details of their undoing bored Voldemort to his core. Quickly images of the scene flooded his mind. Finally, they came upon the young Harry Potter. He did not know how significant this boy could be to his unmaking, but nevertheless proceeded in his attempt to destroy the entire line of Potters. Yet something about this boy was more of a challenge than his fully grown parents. The spell rebounded on Harry and fell upon its caster.  
  
This one incident would plague him for the next 14 years. Voldemort and his followers had caused enough havoc for his name to be feared above all others. He took great delight in this. He patiently awaited the day he would be able to seek revenge on Harry and any heirs he may bear.  
  
Yet as the numerous oppurtunities passed him by Voldemort felt the sense of mortality slowly dwelling upon him. He decided it was time for him to perhaps have a child of his own. A child which would be just as feared as he, if not more. He needed to set precautions for this unconcieved boy of his. Anyone would happily destroy any son bore of the dark Lord Voldemort. He needed reassurement.  
  
How could he have a son without the fear of another wizard, such as Harry Potter, destroying him? Harry has grown very strong over the years, he recalled, and could face Voldemort one on one for atleast 20 minutes before he'd inevitable fail. He needed someone close to Harry to share the glories of having a child. Someone that Harry would never dream of destroying the child of, therefore no other wizard would ponder the thought. Of course, for reassurement beyond this point he would have to destroy the girl, so that his heir was the only heir of this sacrificial mother as well. Voldemort smiled at his cleverness.  
  
Immediately, the bushy-haired girl who followed Harry and his red- headed friend everywhere, he decided would be most acceptable for this task.  
  
She was easily tracked down. Voldemort ordered Wormtail to accompany him. The dark lord told his servant only that, "I need the girl. When I tell you you are to stun her and we will be on our way back here."  
  
"Yes, my Lord."  
  
Outside of her home, they waited in the bushes. Voldemort was pondering of when to break into her house to kidnap her just as the door opened and a sobbing Hermione walked out. She walked for well past an hour, speaking to no one, and staring blankly at the world around her. Once her gaze fell close to them, but quickly reverted to the full moon in the sky. Finally, Voldemort decided, it was time to sneak up on her.  
  
Dawned with a cloaking spell, the two of them made their was across the lawn and crept up on Hermione.  
  
"Master," Wormtail's voice trembled.  
  
"Silence!"  
  
"But sir, are you sure this is such a good idea-"  
  
"Shut up!" Voldemort hissed.  
  
"Of course, my Lord, . . . but Miss Granger is rather intelligent and- "  
  
"Shut-"  
  
"Lumos!" they heard Hermione whisper. She was less than two metres away. She looked around suspiciously. The party had stopped moving and Voldemort chose now as the moment to strike.  
  
"Now!" he cried.  
  
Wormtail darted forward and shouted, "Petrificus totalus!"  
  
Hermione was frozen in mid-air. Before she fell Voldemort swished his wand and brought her close to him. Her eyes were filled with fright as he removed the cloaking charm and revealed a malicious smile.  
  
"Let's go home" he called to Wormtail.  
  
***Authors Note*** Thanks goes to all of you for your flattering reviews. They're so encouraging ^_^ Okay... I know it went pretty fast, but I hope you like it as well as the first chapter. Just for all of my readers and reviewers: this fan fic is going to be unlike any you have read. Some of you may like it, others won't. That fact alone is inevitable with everything in life. I know how this is going to end- though my options are open. I'm considering many things, but I have a basic idea. This isn't a sappy Romance where you wonder who is going to *snog* with whom and when; there is NO (planned at this moment, that is) *snogging*. If that doesn't interest any of my readers, then I suggest you read something else. But thanks for reading this load of crap, lol, j/k ^_^ 


	3. I Miss You

Chapter III I miss you!  
  
From the reports she had read in the Daily Prophet recently, Hermione knew she was not going to survive this abduction. Voldemort's attacks had grown more and more frequent. The curses that he and his men performed on his opposers were so unforgivable it gave the Cruciatus Curse a good name. Hermione did not fear for her life at this point. She was, in fact, hoping that he would kill her instantly. She didn't want to suffer a slow and painful death like those before her.  
  
She was, obviously, oblivious to the reason as to *why* he had stolen her from her muggle home. Her family and her parted on such horrid terms that it made Hermione's eyes water to know that the last thing she told her parents wasn't that she loved them or that she hoped only the best for them. She burst into sobs as she heard those horrid words of hers before she stormed out of the house, "-maybe I *would* be better off elsewhere!"  
  
She curled up into a corner of the bare dungeon that she had woken up in. Allowing her tears to flow freely, as she figured she hadn't much time left to do it anyway, she thought of her parents and how upset they must be. Not knowing how much she really loved them, Not giving them the hug "good-bye" with a kiss on the cheek as she always had- naturally she had not meant to leave, she was just going for a walk to clear her mind, but that would be a walk remembered when she did not come home.  
  
Her thoughts continued to dwell on her family and friends, teachers and mentors, even enemies who had become her closest of friends. She felt alone, cold, and defenseless. Her wand had slipped from her grasp when she was Petrified. She was alone. She hadn't spoken to anyone but her parents for months and they were probably still angry at her anyway. It would be a long time for them to realize what had happened to her. And by the time they actually read it in a copy of the Daily Prophet it will be too late to do anything. Hermione's thoughts turned morbid as the long night wore on.  
  
* * *  
  
Meanwhile, the Dark Lord busied himself with a complex potion that would render Hermione irresistably attracted to him. But to get her to drink it, he thought, he would have to starve her for a day or two so that she wouldn't be able to resist a refreshing beverage. He laughed at his genius.  
  
He would have ordered that overly-plump buffoon to create the mixture, but didn't trust him or anyone else to do a better job. He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted it to be done and over with. He had to pamper this twit for nine months, might as well get it done and over with as soon as possible so that he could have his son and murder that Mudblood wench!  
  
* * *  
  
The day wore on. Hermione grew restless. The only light came from above, through the bars of a window that a rat could scarcely fit through. "God," she moaned, "I miss my family. . ."  
  
Slow starvation, that's how they were going to do her in. Well, she though, it was better way to die than the alternatives. Did he go through this much care to kill all of his victims? The two decripit skeletons accompanying her, along with the Daily Prophet accounts still fresh in her mind, told her *not*. So what did he really want with her? It was because of Harry, it had to be. She hoped that where ever he was, he was safe. 


	4. Remembered

Chapter IV Remembered  
  
She trembled in the coldness of the damp dungeon. It was so hard to sleep, but she tried. There was nothing else to do except to wait for her final day to come. A breeze blew across her face but was quickly stopped. She opened her eyes, but her vision was blurred from the sleep.  
  
A large dark figure kneeled before her. He was holding something. He was extending a hand to her. She felt her head being lifted up gently and her body soon followed. Rubbing her eyes she saw Peter Pettigrew as she'd never seen him before, and yet she still knew better than to trust him. He looked at her through caring eyes as he extended the occupied hand to her.  
  
"Thirsty?" he asked kindly.  
  
She slapped it from his hand coldly and the contents spattered across the dugeon floor. "Leave me! I do not converse with traitors such as yourself!"  
  
The kind face he had once held now looked shocked, angry, and disappointed all in one. She did not regret her actions or words. She simply stood and walked to the other side of her cage. "I'd rather die than help you bastards hurt Harry," she mumbled to herself.  
  
Wormtail rose from the ground, collected the mug, and quietly left the dungeon.  
  
* * *  
  
After a week of not hearing from their daughter the Grangers grew very worried. First, they alerted the police. When they said there was nothing that could be done at the moment Mrs. Granger sent an owl to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. They had learned from Hermione how to send post by owls- it was the only way they could reach her during the school year when they missed her so much.  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore:  
  
Hermione Granger has been missing for a week now and we are getting very worried about her. It is not like her to just leave as she has. The night she left we had a terrible argument about what she was planning on doing with her life. We did tell her that if she didn't like our rules then she should just move out; we told her that she would probably be better off elsewhere and she agreed. That was the last we heard from her since then.  
  
What's odd is when she did not return the next day. We found her wand on the dirt road a mile from our home and we know that she never goes anywhere without it. Her broom and school supplies are still in her trunk by the foot of her bed and all of her clothes and robes are neatly hung. The only thing missing is her and we believe something terrible has happened to her. Have you heard from Hermione? If so, please let us know. We are so concerned for her well-being.  
  
Sincerely, Mr. & Mrs. Granger  
  
Now, all they could do is wait for the wizard's reply. They prayed that she was with him, or that he knew if she was alright or not. They prayed that Hermione was well, and were so sorry for pushing her the way they had. The absence of their only daughter made them think of how they would have done things differently, how everything they did could have forced her to run away. They didn't care if she hated them at this point, all they cared about now was that she was all right and wanted her to be safe at home. . . .  
  
******A/N***** Sorry for the short chapters. I'd like to thank everyone for their wonderful, constructive criticism. It's helped alot. Right now, though, I'm still trying to work on the characterization of Voldemort. He's hard! I don't know how J.K. Rowling does it- he's just so difficult for me to understand! If you've read Chapter II (as I'm sure you have) You'll see that I really need to work on him a bit. He's so bland. I'm going to reread the first few chapters of Book IV though to see if it gives me any help. If any of my wonderful reviewers have any insight on the magical thoughts of the Dark Lord please let me know- it would be most appreciated. Thanks and have a good life ^_^ 


	5. The Inevitable Will Come

Chapter V The Inevitable Will Come  
  
The pain was unbearable. Torture was bearable, torture was humane compared to what she was going through. This *is* torture, she reminded herself. This is immoral! This is death; torture; humilition; hate; anger; fear; all built into one!  
  
She had not eaten since . . . well, the day she was abducted- and hadn't eaten since lunch that day. God, the growls that protruded from her stomach ended two days ago, and she could now feel herself melting away. She was already very skinny- but now she felt as though she was a prisoner of the Holocaust. The only light, and reassurement of life in the world around her, came from the window which was too high for her to escape from, and too small for her to fit through anyway. Even rats, it seemed, feared the home and wrath of Voldemort . . .  
  
Oh, how she wished she had a wand with her now. . . .  
  
She was weary. She found it impossible to stand; her legs didn't want to support her. Her mouth hung open and her tongue was unbearably dry. Her breathes came short and fast. Her tears had all left her and the only legacy that remained of her sorrow was the clear stains on her dirty cheeks and helpless look on her motionless body. She wanted to die. Her parents would never forgive her . . . she just wanted her life to end . . . miserable . . . alone: that was how she felt. Just let it end. . . .  
  
* * *  
  
Incompetent fools! Idiots! A sorry excuse for a Death Eater- the whole lot of them! Send them all to oblivion- that's what he should do. Another Dark Revel had come and gone and they hadn't come close to the mark he had set for his followers. Fifty! FIFTY! He was counting on atleast ten times that many dead muggles. Surely that wouldn't be *too* much to ask. It was clear that many of his followers had grown soft over the years. He made arrangements to deal with that at the next gathering. . . .  
  
He had set orders for the Death Eaters to ambush a small town near Bristol and destroy its inhabitants. Yet even that task appeared to be too daunting to their abilities. He felt as though his Cause was fleeting him. He needed reassurance. He needed something to remind him of just how filthy muggles really were:  
  
Powerless creatures . . . weak and dirty beings . . . having to do physical labor as opposed to having the sense to unlock their powers within. Spending their lives trying to figure out the mysteries of the world instead of smelling the flowers and looking at the world around them in a different perspective. . . . No, they were instead destroying the earth for large shelters to live in. Not that he was the conservative sort himself, but he loathed everything about the muggles. For instance, the way they regarded one another as human beings. Always at war, always fighting, always asking questions and knowing the answers all along; didn't wizards do that too? NO! Of course not! Only the incompetent sort, like the idiots who worked for him. He would have to have a long talk with them. . . .  
  
At that moment Peter entered and cut off Voldemort's thoughts. "My Lord, forgive me!" he said in a squeaky voice.  
  
"What is it imp? What news of the girl have you brought for me? Did she drink the potion?" he asked curiously.  
  
Peter hesitated. He knew that the Dark Lord would not be pleased for what he had to report. "Eh . . . no?"  
  
"No?" he raised an eyebrow to his interrogative answer. "No?"  
  
Peter trembled as his master stood before him, wand poised and ready to hex him. "Crucio!" Voldemort let out.  
  
A rush of cold sweat ran throughout his body. He wriggled from the intense feeling of an electric shock with the disturbing sensation of being tickled and pricked on every inch of his body. The room went dark as his eyes slid to the back of his head. The pain was too much, and he could only bear it for so long. . . . Many Death Eaters grew familiar with such torture, but Peter had found it more and more difficult to contain his squeals with every moment he was held in the curse.  
  
His head was burning so intensely that he felt he was about to burst from the throbbing pain. Finally, just as he was on the brink of crying out, Voldemort released him. He crawled hurriedly to his master's cloaks and began to kiss the hem in apology.  
  
"Forgive me my master, forgive me. She slapped the drink from my hand. She's refused to eat or drink anything. I can do nothing to force her without causing suspicion. Please My Lord, could we not find someone else? Someone who would be easier to subdue?" he suggested hesitantly.  
  
Yet Voldemort heard none of this. He was too distracted in thought. How could he convince her to take the potion? Perhaps it wasn't as difficult as he had imagined. He could . . . ask her to dinner? Surely not what the little witch would expect from the Dark Lord who had killed countless numbers of her kind already. She didn't trust him, that much could easily be assumed. Suddenly, he was reminded of the little rat who was clinging to his robes. "Shod off Wormtail! You've served your purpose, now leave me before I use you for my entertainment!"  
  
"Yes Master!" he said, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt. Peter scurried away to his quarters so that he could breath a sigh of relief.  
  
Voldemort made his way to the dungeons, still unsure of what he would do even when he got there. Yet he kept his face emotionless, his shoulders square, and kept a long stride as his cloak swept closely behind him.  
  
As he unlocked the dungeon doors with a simple password ("Necavit!") he found Hermione, face down, sprawled unconscious on the floor of the prison.  
  
* * *  
  
Hermione awoke in a comfortable room and atop soft feather pillows and silk sheets. At first she thought it all a horrid dream- but knew better than that. The first thing that gave it away was the unfamiliar setting she found herself in. The room wasn't exactly gloomy- but it was NOT where she wanted to spend her summer vacation.  
  
The walls of the small room reflected at every angle. They appeared to be made of mirrors- but she was sure that who ever was outside of the room could see straight in. It appeared to be a rather "high-class" dungeon. The room could not be much larger than the dungeon she was in before she had passed out. For one, the bed she was on took up one-half of the room, a slender table at the foot of the bed took up another bit, and the rest was an empty space that was only wide enough for her to sit with her legs extended. It expanded to a part of the wall that was very distinguishable as a door.However, it was laced with a golden frame so that it looked like a full-length mirror.  
  
Now that she looked at herself, she seemed quite well rested, cleaned, and groomed as well. She knew better than to think that she appeared this way after over a week in a dungeon. Even her attire had changed and she was wearing long, silky, black robes that fit as though they were made for her. If it wasn't for her current disposition, she would be quite pleased with it all.  
  
Suddenly, a house-elf entered the room with a large tray of mouth- watering meat and vegetables. A second elf carried tea and a glass. The food reminded her of how terribly hungry she was, but her freedom meant far more to her. She darted for the open door before the oppressed house-elves could stop her. However, her way was blocked by a tall, slender figure wearing dark robes and speaking with a deep bellow that reminded her of-  
  
"Going somewhere?" Voldemort inquired.  
  
Hermione stumbled backwards. Her gaze was fixed upon the Dark Lord himself . . . Vol- Vol- . . . Voldemort! She saw a smile sneak across his face as he saw her in such distress.  
  
No words could escape her. She could scarcely find the time to catch her jaw which had fallen to the floor, let alone address the murderer of thousands- or more- muggles and wizards alike. That murdering *bastard*. He would have tortured, raped, or murdered her in the worst ways possible if he didn't want to hurt Harry so badly. He needed her, and she saw this to her advantage. And if he didn't need her, then her life was over just as quickly anyway. She made up her mind from that moment forward NOT to cower before the likes of a man too weak to deal with whatever past he had to live with.  
  
She collected her thoughts and spoke her mind to him, though it was a few minutes after he addressed her. "Yes! I wish to leave! And if you plan on stopping me, then you had better think twice!"  
  
"Oh?" he chuckled inwardly at her failing attempt to seem brave before him. "And what do *you* plan on doing if I do not allow you to pass?"  
  
"THIS!" she shouted as she raised a bare foot to his groin and caused his face to go red and his knees to buckle- he tried his hardest not to show pain before the girl, but this was NOT the sort of pain that he was usually inflicted with- if any. That one incident, he thought, clearly would put a damper in his plans for a day or two. . . .  
  
"Expelliarmas!" he squeaked hoarsely with his wand directed at her. She flew backwards and crashed against the opposite wall. The glass did not shatter, but the pressure knocked the breath out of her long enough for Voldemort to escape with some form of dignity and the elves to scurry out after him. The door was shut and she was left with a savory meal of chicken and steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes and a boiling pot of tea.  
  
Resisting her yearning to eat was like denying herself air. Both weren't the furthest thought from her mind, but why force herself to suffer in her final days? Besides, who's to say that she wouldn't make it out alive? Everything bad happens for a good reason, her parents would say, and she hoped that they were right now above all other times.  
  
She sat on the bed before the long table, which was high enough to eat from without having to slouch; poured herself some tea; collected some food onto her plate; and enjoyed her first meal in a week- which she knew could very well be her final one. All the while, she thought of the discomforted look Voldemort held after she inflicted some muggle-style pain on his wizarding-ass! She was quite pleased with herself and took a sip of tea without thinking twice of her actions towards Voldemort. She did not fear him. Anyone had the power to kill her, she knew that, and if he was going to kill her he would have done it already. If he still planned on killing her, atleast she would make his life hell before he did it.  
  
*******A/N****** First off, I'd like to thank the anonymous-reviewer, Amy Lee, for her continued support and constructive criticism. You've helped so much and I'm trying to work on all that you've told me.  
  
Anyway, I'm not sure, but I think this chapter is a bit longer, a bit better written, and a bit more in depth than the other chapters as far as Voldemort is concerend. Since I'm so unsure, I need whoever is reading this right now to click the little purple button at the bottom left-hand side of the page and REVIEW. This would help me so much and the reviews encourage me to update because I know then that someone is actually reading this crap and interested in what will come next... THANKS FOR ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE REVIEWED SO FAR! YOU'RE GREAT! ^_^ 


	6. A Walk Remembered

ATTENTION TO READER:  
  
Thank you for taking the time to read my fan fic. It means a lot to me. However, my computer had a virus and all of the files on it were deleted- including the following chapters. It was going good too! :(  
  
I've decided to just call this fan fic complete so that I can move on to more stories. If you really need an ending I'll briefly summarize the best I can:  
  
The pleasant meal that Hermione consumed had drugged her senses allowing Voldemort to seduce her successfully. After that she was allowed to roam the fortress freely; she was waited on hand and foot; she missed a few periods. She finds out that she is pregnant and realizes that the intimate "dream" she had of her and Voldemort was NOT a dream but was in fact his purpose for keeping her alive as long as he had.  
  
Dumbledore and the Grangers' suspected Voldemort with their entire being but no one could find his well fortified fortress. Naturally, Ron and Harry set off on a quest to rescue Hermione. Using what little intelligence they have they pin pointed her location.  
  
Meanwhile, Hemione argues with Voldemort, and also with herself. What should I do? What will I do? I am going to give birth to the heir of Voldemort? This can't be! I won't let this be! He'll raise this child to be just like him. No one will want to harm him because I will love him as my own. I couldn't even harm him. I can't harm him now. . . but what else do I have to live for. . .   
  
That night she said nothing at dinner.  
  
"What's wrong tonight?" the Dark Lord inquired to the little witch.  
  
She burped. Voldemort looked at her questioningly. Hermione simply sat in silence as she finished her final meal.  
  
In the final hour before she ended her own life she realized why Voldemort had chosen her. She forsaw what evil deeds the heir of Voldemort could possibly do and would not let that happen. Soon enough Voldemort himself would surely wipe out the entire Muggle population himself and she would not be any part of it. Swiftly she thrusted a sharp blade into her gut and cried in pain as tears poured down her face. She looked out the window of her elegant cell and saw Ron and Harry flying towards her seconds too late.   
  
***Authors Note***  
  
Warning: if you like the happy endings DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER! Whoops! Was I a little late myself??? Hope not. As I said, the virus erased EVERY SINGLE THING I HAD SAVED ON MY HARD-DRIVE. That depressed me a bit. I lost all interest in rewriting this story so I simply summarized it. I am so sorry if I disappointed any of you. Again, thank you for reading my story. LOVE YA! 


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